


I Pika-choose You

by andthelightbulbclicks



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 07:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthelightbulbclicks/pseuds/andthelightbulbclicks
Summary: Clarke can handle knowing her neighbor is extremely hot. It's when she keeps seeing him in a Pikachu onesie that the problems really start. He's hot, he's cute, he's nerdy, and she's absolutelynotinto it. Whatsoever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Clarke being stupidly into Bellamy wearing a pikachu onesie

**i.**

Coming off of a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, Clarke is (understandably) exhausted. So tired in fact, that she would honestly think she was imagining the yellow blob of fuzz standing down the hallway of her apartment building if it weren’t for two things.

A.) It’s currently cursing under its breath while standing in front of her doorway.

B.) It sounds 100%, without a doubt, like Bellamy.

She’s quiet as she makes her way forward, trying to gauge what exactly is going on because really, she just wants to go sleep and she’s not sure she has the mental awareness right now to handle whatever issue her neighbor is currently dealing with.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a brief moment of triumph at the little jump Bellamy makes when she calls out his name once she’s right behind him.

He turns around quickly, taking in her scrubs and evident exhaustion as she takes in his…

Pikachu onesie?

Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again after a quick recheck that she’s not tired enough to actually be hallucinating just yet.

“I have so many questions right now,” she tells him when it’s clear he’s not going to be the one to start the conversation.

“You definitely only have one legitimate question,” he clarifies, making a clear inclination to his outfit and trying to keep some semblance of normal as his oversized hood falls over his eyes. Because, again, he’s in a _Pikachu onesie_ , standing in the middle of their hallway, and she’s really trying to not get distracted by it.

Nobody should look this good dressed up as a Pokémon.

But leave it to Bellamy, tanned skin clashing with the bright yellow, unruly curls popping out from the hood that has _ears_ on it, deprecating smile on his lips. She should not be into this.

She _is not_ into this. She’s tired and needs to sleep for at least the next twenty-four hours.

“Is there a reason you’re defiling young children’s vocabulary by cursing outside my door?” She asks, attempting to get a hold on the conversation.

It works, because his nose scrunches at her words. “Okay, so you have two legitimate questions,” he concedes.

At her raised eyebrow, he sighs in defeat and rolls his shoulders back, as if standing taller changes anything about the current situation. “So I got back from work and realized I’m locked out of my apartment,” he starts, glancing down at his messenger back laying beside his closed apartment door, across the hall from hers. “So I was going to get my spare from you, but you weren’t answering, so I figured you were at work and I was going to have to sit out here until you got home.”

“In a Pikachu onesie,” Clarke adds when he doesn’t continue. There’s no way she’s not getting an answer to that one.

“In a Pikachu onesie,” he agrees.

She lets the pause drag on after he speaks, just to emphasize his unnecessary stubbornness. “And you’re in a Pikachu onesie because…”

“It was pajama day at school today,” he tells her, smirk on his face. “I figured my third graders wouldn’t appreciate my normal sleep attire.”

“Which is…,” she finds her mouth saying before her brain can catch up.

The smirk on Bellamy’s face only grows. “Wouldn’t you like to know Griffin.” She snorts in response, adamantly refusing to think of Bellamy Blake sleeping in anything other than this onesie for the sake of her own sanity. That would be treading into dangerous territory. “O bought this as a gag gift last year, so I figured I’d go with it.”

And any other time, Clarke would be all over giving him a harder time, but again, she’s so dead on her feet right now she doesn’t even have the energy to bicker with Bellamy, which is practically her favorite pastime these days.

So she heaves a dramatic sigh as she reaches into her bag for her own set of keys, Bellamy moving to the side to let her open her door. He must be picking up her mood, because to his credit, he silently follows her into her apartment so she can grab his spare set of keys. She tosses hers into the bowl by the door and grabs his instead, tossing them to him.

He catches them, of course, smile bright on his face.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” he says, walking backwards towards her open door.

“You owe me like five, Blake,” she tries to say sternly, but the deep yawn she covers with her hand kind of ruins the effect.

“Get some rest, Clarke,” he tells her fondly once he’s at the threshold. He turns around to head towards his own door, giving her a clear view of the back of the onesie.

And _dear lord_ , it has a _Pikachu tail_ too.

When she wakes up, she’s going to need to have some serious self-reflection of her feelings towards her hot neighbor wearing a Pikachu onesie.

But first, sleep.

* * *

**ii.**

When Clarke hears someone knocking on her door, it startles her if only because of the time. She’s expecting lots of knocks on it tonight from trick-or-treaters that live in the building, but a quick glance at her clock tells her that it’s still pretty early. She wasn’t expecting anyone for another hour or so.

Still, she heads to the door, expecting a parent with their young child, getting in some trick-or-treating before it gets busy.

Instead, she gets Bellamy.

And two identical girls who are the spitting image of Octavia.

One glance at him, in his Pikachu onesie yet again, and her smirk falls into place. She is _so_ ready for it this time.

“What’s new Pikachu?” She asks teasingly. She watches Bellamy’s own smirk settle, and then her eyes fall to the girls. “And Squirtle, and...,” she pauses, analyzing the other twin. “Is that a Ditto onesie?”

“Cute,” Bellamy retorts as the girls smile triumphantly.

“See Uncle Bell? Told ya Clarke would be home,” one of them says. Which one, she’s honestly not sure. She has yet to figure out a way to tell the twins apart. She’ll say Kennedi, and they both answer. She says Carter, they both answer. It’s extremely confusing.

“ _And_ she knew I was Ditto,” the other chimes in gleefully.

Clark tilts her head at that, “Where does your mom even find these Pokémon onesies?”

Bellamy chuckles as the girls shrug their shoulders. “That would be a question for O,” Bellamy answers. “I thought you’d be at work,” he adds, observing her lack of scrubs, unknowingly making her own body tingle with his onceover of her.

She shakes her head, trying not to smile at the fact that he probably knows her normal schedule better than she does some days. “I worked Independence Day, so I get Halloween off. They’ll call me if there’s an all-hands-on-deck situation. Come on in for a sec, you guys are early, so my candy is still in grocery bags.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says as they walk into her apartment, “they wanted to do the apartment building, and then O and Lincoln are picking them up later to do their own neighborhood when it’s dark.”

“Cool,” she says, ripping into a package of chocolate bars. “You girls should definitely be on a sugar high by the time your parents pick you up then,” she adds conspiratorially. “Take like three or four,” she tells them as she pours the candy into a large Halloween basket she keeps solely for the occasion.

As the girls dig into the basket eagerly, she walks over to Bellamy, tugging on one of the ears on his hood when she’s close enough. She’s _still_ not into this. At all.

“Got any plans once they head out?” She asks, attempting to sound neutral. They hang out all the time, his apartment, her apartment. They’re _friends_. So she ignores the tug when his head bows forward to hide his smile.

“Nope,” he says, “you?”

“Just eating my body weight in chocolate bars.”

That startles a laugh out of him, and she can feel her cheeks start to flush. “Yeah,” he responds, gesturing to the candy basket that his nieces are currently delving into, “you seem overly optimistic about the number of trick-or-treaters in the building.”

Clarke settles her hands on her hips, mock indignation in place. “Or it’s my excuse to eat as much chocolate as I want.”

Another laugh from Bellamy, and Clarke barely tamps down her own smile. “Well if you need some assistance with the chocolate, I’d be more than happy to help,” he tells her as Carter and Kennedi start telling him they need to get going. He gives her an exasperated look, shaking his head and causing the Pikachu hood to fall forward again.

“I clearly see who’s in charge here, and it’s the not the guy in the Pikachu costume,” she jokes as the girls start tugging on both of his hands.

“Yep, my only consolation is that Octavia is getting what she threw out at six-years-old, only double. What goes around, comes around,” he jokes, allowing himself to be pulled towards the door. “What do you guys say to Clarke?” He adds once they’re heading into the hall.

“Thank you, Clarke,” they say in unison.

Clarke’s lips definitely quirk into a smile. “You’re welcome. Say hi to Mom and Dad for me.”

She watches the girls head down to the next door, glancing back to Bellamy. “See you later?” She asks as she bumps his hip with hers.

“Save me the peanut butter ones,” he tells her before following after his nieces, Pikachu tail swaying behind him. Watching him with his nieces, Clarke can’t help her amused smile.

It’s totally fond, and definitely embarrassing. He’s _cute_ , on top of being hot, and Clarke’s at least adult enough to acknowledge that.

Later, after the rush of trick-or-treaters has died down, there’s a knock on her door that’s all Bellamy. She opens the door to find him standing there, dressed in sweatpants and a white t-shirt, grocery bag in hand.

“More candy?” She asks, gesturing towards the bag. “Weren’t you just making fun of me before for how much I have?

“I didn’t get to pass mine out with the twins here, so I figured I’d bring it over. You like the almond ones, right?” He asks, breezing past her into her apartment to plop himself down on her couch. He immediately starts digging into her basket for the remaining peanut butter ones.

He’s completely unfazed by her standing in the doorway, watching him for reasons she can’t even begin to explain. She could start with the fact that he knew what her favorite candy is. Or how comfortable he looks in her home. Or how she wishes he hadn’t changed out of his Pikachu onesie.

 _Or_ she can go eat her body weight in candy.

Yeah, she’ll go do that.

* * *

**iii.**

It’s January, and Clarke is fucking _freezing_.

She’d gotten an email an hour ago from the landlord, informing the building’s tenants that the heating system blew a fuse and that it wouldn’t be fixed until tomorrow.

The email apologized profusely, and then advised everyone to either find another place to stay for the night, or to come down to the lobby to pick up a space heater.

Clarke Griffin was not about to be brought down by a little lack of heat, so she marched down to the lobby, got her space heater, and proceeded to wrap herself up in a hoodie, her thickest jacket, a pair of sweatpants, her fuzziest socks, and the scarf Wells had knitted her for Christmas.

And she is still _fucking cold_.

So, she stands up from where she was huddled next to the space heater, wrapped in two blankets, grabs the handle on the top of the heater, and marches across the hall to pound on Bellamy’s door.

And because Clarke’s life is just so perfectly typical, Bellamy comes to the door in what other than his stupid Pikachu onesie that Clarke is absolutely, completely, _not_ into.

He also has a blanket wrapped around him and a hat is peeking out from underneath the hood, but _still_.

“I thought you would have gone to your mom’s,” he says in lieu of any other form of greeting, taking in her random get-up.

“I thought you would have gone to Octavia’s,” she counters, knowing they are both too stubborn for their own good. She knew he’d still be here, and she’d bet money he knew she would still be in her apartment. “I figured two space heaters probably work better than one, right?” She explains while making her way into his apartment, setting her heater up on the opposite side of the room from his, facing away from him as she does it.

So far, she’s done well with not outright staring at him when he’d notice, but she’s honestly not sure how much more of this onesie she can handle.

“How can that possibly be keeping you warm?” She blurts out abruptly when she turns back around.

Apparently, she can’t handle one more moment of it.

Bellamy halts where he was starting to make his way over to her. “What?” He asks her on a chuckle.

Clarke heaves a frustrated breath. “I mean, you’re telling me that _that_ is what you chose to wear in freezing January temperatures? It’s not even snug!” She continues breathlessly, “I know for a fact that your body is barely even touching the fuzzy fabric because it’s so baggie and you’re so lean. And what about the hood! You already have a hat on, so you don’t _need_ the hood too. And don’t get me started on that damn tail. What’s even the point of it? I mean really, Bell, are you trying to freeze to death or what?”

Bellamy blinks at her, at a loss for words. He shakes his head out, making the stupid ears on the hood sway back and forth.

“I’m going to be honest,” he starts, taking one cautious step towards her, “I have no fucking idea what’s going on right now.” He makes his way towards her slowly, eyes never leaving her face. “But, I’m going to focus on the part where you’re overly concerned that my Pikachu onesie isn’t protecting my lean body,” he tells her, stopping right in front of her.

She scoffs in place of answering, embarrassment starting to crawl up her spine.

“It’s also a very muscular body,” he adds tentatively, “if that’s something you were interested in knowing.”

She’d think he was completely unfazed by her random outburst, that he was just teasing her, if he wasn’t refusing to look at her when he says that last part, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Clarke,” he calls from in front of her when she remains quiet. “Do you actually like my Pikachu onesie? Because I can’t really tell.” And if anyone else were to say that, she’d think they were making fun of her, but she can’t pick up a hint of mocking from his tone.

His voice is pure amazement.

Full of determination, Clarke tilts her head up, meeting his wondrous gaze. “I like _you_ ,” she declares, voice strong, heart pounding.

But Bellamy’s smile gives her the confidence to go on.

“I am also so into you in a Pikachu onesie it’s pathetic,” she admits before pulling on the front of the yellow material, crashing their lips together.

Bellamy’s frozen for a second, sending Clarke into a brief moment of panic, until his lips start moving against hers just as eagerly, catching her bottom lip and making Clarke gasp.

She completely loses herself in the kiss, so much so, that when they come up for air, her hands are thoroughly weaved into Bellamy’s hair, his hood thrown back and his hat on the ground. He’s got her wrapped so tightly in his arms, she’s the warmest she’s been all day.

Bellamy’s eyes are bright as he beams down at her. “If I’d known you like it so much, I would’ve worn it more often,” he says, before leaning down for another kiss.

Clarke tilts her head to deepen it, feeling Bellamy groan when she’s the one to capture his lip. “I like you all the time,” she tells him, pulling away, “the onesie just reminds me that you can be hot _and_ cute. _And_ a dork,” she adds as an afterthought.

He laughs, happy and surprised, before a shiver runs through his body. She’d think it was because of her, if it still wasn’t quite literally the arctic in the building right now.

“So,” Clarke continues, “I can think of a few ways to warm us up,” her hand lifts to snag the zipper near his neck. “And you can show me this muscular body of yours.”

“Wow,” Bellamy lets out breathlessly, eyes trailing across her face, “that was actually smooth.”

Clarke traces the tanned skin near the zipper, warm to the touch. “I have tons of game when I’m not being thrown off by a Pokémon.”

“ _And_ there it goes,” Bellamy teases, before lifting her up and carrying her to his room.

And he was right, the onesie was hiding a _very_ muscular body.

* * *

**+iv.**

“Clarke?” Bellamy calls, making his way into their apartment. When her lease had ended in August, they both agreed it would make the most sense for her to just move in with him.

“In here!” She calls from their bedroom.

He hangs his coat up, then makes his way to their bedroom, grocery bag in hand.

“Hey,” he starts before he sees her, “they had a peanut butter and almond combo pack, so I figured we can save that one for us and pass the rest out to the trick-or-treaters tonight and we can just pick the rest of the them out of–”

He stops abruptly when he spots his girlfriend sitting on their bed crossed-legged, a small box wrapped in Halloween wrapping paper sitting in front of her.

“Hi,” she smiles shyly, “Happy Halloween, I got you a present.”

Bellamy eyes her warily for a second. “Did I forget a milestone of some sort?”

“Nope,” she tells him, patting the open space next to her on the bed, “just wanted to get my awesome boyfriend something.”

He heads towards the bed, only slightly less cautious, and takes the box when she hands it to him. He’d swear she was nervous, which only heightens his own anxiety. Moving carefully, he unwraps the box, feeling Clarke’s eyes watching him the entire time.

When he opens the box, he reaches through the bright yellow tissue paper to pull out a…

Pikachu onesie?

Clarke’s gaze doesn’t waver as he holds it up, barely larger than the box she had put it in. “A very small Pikachu onesie,” he observes, heart starting to pound as he sees Clarke’s eyes soften with whatever reaction he’s having. “I’ve got a lot of questions,” he tells her, as he gently places the onesie to the side of them, tugging her in until she’s in his lap.

She wraps her arms around him, laughing happily. “You definitely have one legitimate question.”

Which, yeah, he’ll give her that.

“You’re pregnant?” He whispers in awe as his hand unconsciously rests on her stomach.

Clarke just wraps him up in a tight hug, head nodding against his neck. “I figured Octavia would tell me where she gets the Pokémon onesies if I told her it was for her niece or nephew.”

His chuckle shakes them both. “God I love you,” he murmurs against her neck, before pulling back to kiss her smile, licking into her mouth when she laughs happily.

“What did she say when you told her why you wanted to know?” He asks after a few minutes, a little dazed, drunk on happiness.

Clarke leans back, kissing him soundly. “She said our baby’s going to be a nerd.”

“Damn straight,” Bellamy agrees, before leaning back in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> One day, some day, I will figure out how keep prompts short. Today is not that day.
> 
> Side note: I'm accepting prompts on my [tumblr](http://andthelightbulbclicks.tumblr.com/) :)


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